Crimson
by Katbin
Summary: Recovering from a nasty injury has never been one of Shepard's strong points. Luckily, she's got Garrus to help her through. ME2.
1. Chapter 1

Garrus Vakarian knows that sometimes it only takes a few seconds for everything to turn to shit. He's had plenty of first-hand experience: Sovereign colliding into the Citadel Tower while he was still inside, getting the news of Shepard's "death", losing his entire team months later, having half of his face blown off. He regards himself as a veteran of tragedy and is even more aware that most of his misfortunes have centered around one Commander Shepard. The very same Commander that is in front of him collecting data on her omni.

Because of his expertise in the field, he's less than shocked when Shepard gets hit with two concussive rounds directly to the chest. She's definitely taken worse hits than this. Spirits, she's come back from the dead. He hears himself sigh has he reaches back for his sniper rifle, resigned, readying to kill any idiot that steps into his line of fire. Combat like this is just another part of his daily life now, it's as simple as breathing. That should worry him. He's become so blasé about death these days.

What does worry him is the extra shot that follows immediately after Shepard's shields fall. The almost theatrical spurts of blood that leave her body and splat onto the dusty floor send shockwaves through him and before he can get to her she hits the ground. A heavy thud of armor. Garrus can't see her face, that silly helmet she picked up on Tuchanka in the way, but he hears her gasp over their open communication channel.

"Shepard!" Any semblance of ease has been ripped away from the tone in his voice. Damn! They'd cleared this base upon arrival, he was sure of it. Now it was crawling with another handful of Blue Sun mercs. "Dammit! Thane, get to Shepard, I'll get the mercs."

The Drell is a fast blur to his right. "Understood."

He can't look at Shepard, can't distract his aim. The strangled grunts coming over the comm are all but killing him. Garrus shakes his head to focus and sets up behind a few supply crates. As much as he wants to be there next to Thane to stop the bleeding and to get Shepard out he knows that they'll be in boiling water if they don't get rid of the mercs first. As he takes stock of their positions he feels the adrenaline hit him and the world around him finally falls away. It's show time. Time to kill these bastards.

They've got good positions, he thinks absently. Good, but not great. And he's great. After he picks off the snipers that were likely responsible for Shepard's injuries the others begin to panic. They might have the superior fire power but they lack discipline. It's his favorite part when they try to run after they realize they're utterly fucked, they get sloppy. Desperate. He switches to his assault rifle to gun down the last few that are trying to make it out of the compound. They're firing without aiming in hopes to punch through his shields or to destroy his cover.

"Garrus," Thane breaks him from his trance. "We're going to lose Shepard if this lasts much longer."

He can hear her again. She's coughing, choking on her own blood, but it's not over the comm channel anymore. He risks a glance to see Thane has thrown her helmet to the side, her head in his lap. Spirits, no. She can't die. Again. He doesn't want their final moments together to be in an insignificant planet's mine. When she died the first time it nearly destroyed him.

"Hang on, Shepard. Don't you dare die on me!" He throws a grenade in the general direction of the remaining mercs and the blast takes them down easily enough leaving behind plumes of dust and debris for them to make an exit through. "Let's go!"

Thane struggles but eventually picks her up, carefully cradling her broken body in his arms. Blood is already pooling outside of her armor and onto his chest, ruby red. By the time they make it out her breathing is incredibly shallow and quick. "Fuckers," she croaks weakly.

When Garrus finds the packets of medi-gel as they step back onto the shuttle he sees how much his hands are shaking. "Get the chest plate off," he orders. "We've got to stop the bleeding."

Shepard cries out as they pull off the piece of armor, her delicate features contorting into an unfamiliar mask of anguish. The woven armor suit underneath the plates is soaked through with her sweat and blood, leaving ugly contact blotches inside of the ceramic plating. Garrus and Thane both suck in a breath, hissing at the visual. This isn't good. Even with all of her cybernetic implants and advanced armor mods the shot has landed just in the middle of her left ribs. The angry wound seeps, pulses with her erratic heartbeat. The mods and implants are likely the only reason she's still breathing by now.

"Garrus, Thane," Doctor Chakwas' voice filters into the shuttle. "Is Shepard still conscious?"

Pilot must have filled her in, Garrus realizes. He kneels down while ripping apart the first packet of medi-gel, scooping a generous amount onto his fingers. He can see Shepard's forest green eyes following his movements, her lips trying to form words. "Yeah, she's still awake."

Thane takes the packet from his hand and cautiously applies the gel to the outside edges of the wound. "Forgive me, Commander," he soothes after Shepard hisses at the contact.

"Keep her awake until I say differently. Get her ready to board," Chakwas is all business. "Under no circumstance can she lose consciousness."

He still hasn't applied any of the shimmering gel to the wound. It's suspended over her chest, and he's lost in a swirling of emotions in his head. Garrus begins to realize that he's losing his composure which is just another tell of how much he's come to care for Shepard. But he knows that this isn't the time for freezing up or confessions and the solider in him snaps to attention. He has to make sure that Shepard makes it out of this alive. It's hard for him to remember that when he can only hear Shepard's small whimpers and only see the tears involuntarily pooling at the corner of her eyes.

"Damn," Thane mutters. "Get the far edge. It's rejecting the medi-gel."

He nods curtly and sets to work. The faintly blue gel warps into a sinister violet the more he smoothly wipes along the entry point. She jumps at his touch, a gasping scream filling the shuttle. He feels a gnawing, clawing pain in his own chest as he holds her down by the shoulders. If she keeps moving things are only going to get worse.

"Shh, hang on Shepard. We're almost back."

Her body convulses once and then goes utterly still. Garrus keeps his eyes the rising and falling of her chest thanking the Spirits with every second it continues the labored movements. It's not much but it's all that he can really hold onto at this point, the only evidence that she's still alive.

Shepard finds his eyes and grabs for one of his hands. "Garrus I can't… it…"

"I know. We'll get you patched up soon, I promise."

"Did you get them all?" The words come out around the rattling breaths, forced past her clenched jaw. She's obviously making a great effort to stay awake. "Are they dead?"

"We're approaching the _Normandy_," Thane announces and stands, readying himself by the shuttle door. "Keep her still when we land."

Garrus mimics Thane's earlier position by Shepard's side, applying pressure to her wound using what's left of the unsoiled emergency gauze. "They're dead, Shepard. We got them."

The corners of her mouth almost imperceptibly turn upwards as the shuttle lands. The doors rise open slowly and he can see several pairs of feet waiting. There are the usual suspects: Chakwas and Miranda, even Mordin, but several other crew members are there as well. They must be the ones that are going to carry Shepard to the Med Bay.

"Still awake?" Chakwas steps onto the shuttle, waving the others to transfer Shepard onto a stretcher.

"Yes ma'am," Garrus answers instantly.

"Good. Let's get her to the Med Bay, now."

He rises with Shepard as they move her to the stretcher. They mumble around him, blood transfusions, fluids, other things outside of his basic battlefield medical skills. Shepard squeezes his hand once before they move away, forcing her to let go, and the group disappears into the elevator.

"What the hell happened down there? It was supposed to be a simple data fetch," Miranda seethes.

"Blue Suns, surprise attack after we believed the base to be cleared. A small group of reinforcements caught us by surprise and Shepard took heavy fire." Thane relays the information as he wipes his front with a clean cloth someone must have offered him upon arrival. "Two concussive rounds, one penetrating shot."

Concern flashes over Miranda's normally stern face for just longer than a second. "And I assume they were taken care of or do I need to send the two of you back down there to send a message?"

"Miranda, they're dead." Garrus shakes his head as Thane tries to offer him the cloth. "They're not as lucky as Shepard. Doubtful they've got a splinter group ready to spend billions of credits to bring them back."

"Wonderful. If you'll excuse me, Chakwas might need my assistance with Shepard's cybernetics." She brushes past them to the elevator. "By the way, thanks for getting her out alive."

After she leaves Garrus looks to Thane to see his teammate is just as shocked by Miranda's words. "There are miracles," he says slowly, dark eyes wide.

"I thought I was vividly hallucinating," he replies just as dumbstruck.

"I believe Dr. Chakwas and Operative Lawson will tell us when the Commander is well again but if you should need my assistance I'll be waiting outside of the Medical Bay."

He chuckles tiredly. "Me too, Thane. Save me a seat."

They walk towards the elevator together. "As you wish."


	2. Chapter 2

He sets up a chair from the Mess to face the Med Bay. It's the only way he can effectively remain out of everyone's space. Garrus asks EDI to only alert him if the calibrations are absolutely necessary and she obliges after Joker adds in some snarky comment he doesn't pay attention to. For now, he's dedicated his time to waiting for news from Doctor Chakwas. Miranda won't say anything when she emerges every now and then no matter much he pesters her.

Tali is the first to show up from the rest of the crew and she spends several hours with him, wringing her hands nervously while pacing back and forth. He does his best to calm her down but eventually she has to leave and go back down to engineering. If she keeps herself busy she won't have to worry about Shepard. Garrus promises to ping her if anything changes and she retreats gratefully back to her post.

The others filter in and out as the hours pass, usually when they stop by the Mess for a quick meal, and they come to either himself or Thane for updates. Unfortunately neither of them have much to offer for news. It makes him furious that he can't barge in there to ask what's taking them so long. Thane chides him several times, reminding him that her wound was for lack of a better word catastrophic and taking care of her will take time. Garrus knows that Thane is right, but it doesn't make him feel any better or make time go any faster.

Eventually he falls into a restless sleep, propped up in the uncomfortable Mess chairs. It's just another way to pass the time. It's something to keep him occupied. Whenever he opens his eyes to check the time no longer than twenty minutes have passed. What he wouldn't do for a giant bottle of a nice Turian Brandy. Thane seems to be struggling just as much as he is, the Drell's eyes closing for several seconds then unexpectedly snapping open. When Garrus turns to ask his friend a question he finds that Thane has moved his chair back into its original place and has rested his head on the tabletop. He's fast asleep.

"Smart," he mumbles as he shifts his own chair. "EDI?"

"Yes Officer Vakarian?" The AI's response is immediate, her holographic display appearing above the surface of the table. "Do you need assistance with something?"

He crosses his arms on the table, resting his head on top of them. "Wake me if anything changes."

"With the calibrations or Commander Shepard's condition?"

"Either."

As a proper wave of sleep begins to wash over him he yawns and closes his eyes. He barely hears EDI answer him. "Understood."

There's a chattering going on around him when he lifts his head. He isn't sure how much time has passed since he passed out but before he checks his omni he realizes that Thane isn't on the opposite side of the table anymore. Curious, he looks behind him to find the doors to the Med Bay are actually, and finally, open. The sound, he realizes, is coming from beyond the open doors and as he concentrates on it more the more it sounds like voices arguing.

Garrus pushes himself out of the chair and towards the Med Bay, all the while hearing the voices getting louder and louder. Whatever is going on in there has his stomach in unexpected knots. A tiny voice in his head tells him that something has gone horribly wrong, that Shepard's extraordinary luck has finally run out. He silences the thoughts with a shake of his head and rounds the corner into the sterilized room.

Chakwas is gesticulating wildly, almost screaming at Miranda, her normally perfect hair askew and mussed. Miranda looks as composed as ever but Garrus can tell underneath the surface she is seconds away from killing everyone in the room. Her arms are rigidly at her sides, hands squeezed into tight fists, and her shoulders are raised. The pure fury radiating from both of the women is staggering.

Behind them, Mordin is fiddling with something on an operating table but Garrus can't see exactly what it is. He can see Shepard's legs and part of her torso but the rest of her is obscured by the three. What in the world could they be arguing about at a time like this? They should be working to make sure Shepard is safe and comfortable.

He bounds in between Chakwas and Miranda, his arms out at his sides to try to create more space. As he opens his mouth to ask what the hell is going the reality of the situation crashes into him. From this viewpoint he can see over Mordin's shoulder and he doesn't like what he sees at all. Shepard isn't breathing. She isn't hooked up to the many machines surrounding the operating table. Her tiny frame is still, her face slack and pale.

The floor beneath him feels as if its falling away and there's a loud alarm-like sound that hits him like a Turian cruser. Its two years all over again but this time its worse. Much, much worse. This time he's actually in the same room. This time he's only feet away from a dead Commander Shepard. This time he… oh Spirits, no. At first, a chill sweeps through his entire body and he feels frozen in place. Hardly any thought passes through him besides the image of the woman in front of him. He'll never hear her laugh again, never see her smile, never get the chance to tell her everything he's been sorting through since he saw her on Omega.

A burning rage begins to replace the cold. It sends shivers up his back and through his chest, lodging itself in the equivalent spot of Shepard's wound. There it blazes, scorching away at him and suddenly he's grabbed both Chakwas' and Miranda's arms squeezing more than he probably should. "How?"

"Ask your incompetent Doctor," Miranda snarls as she tries to escape his grip. "Ask her how she let Commander Shepard die!"

"Don't you dare you Cerberus bitch." Chakwas voice is down-right feral but her body begins to go slack when she looks to Shepard. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

Garrus can barely see straight through the anger but he lets go of the women and almost collides into the operating table. Mordin shifts to allow him more access to the body. "Complications of surgery," he whispers. "Heart gave out. Wouldn't restart."

"No." He takes her hand into his larger one, disgusted by how cool it's become. "This can't be happening."

"Unfortunate."

His head snaps to the right and he's glaring at Mordin. "Unfortunate? That's all you have to say? She's the savior of the Citadel, defender of the galaxy and all you have to say is 'unfortunate'?"

He feels Mordin move away from him but he doesn't care. Shepard's dead. Nothing really matters anymore. She's dead for the second time and he can't believe that they've come this far for nothing. The mission will go on without her, he figures, but he's not sure if he'll be able to go on without her leadership. Without her companionship. Without her. He brushes his other hand over her face, through the silky hair she was so enamored with, back to her face to trace where her scar use to be before her resurrection.

"Please don't be dead, Shepard," it's a desperate, silly plea that he knows is useless. "You can't leave now."

"Garrus," Miranda rests a hand on his shoulder but he shakes it off. "Garrus you need to-"

"Don't touch me, Lawson!"

Chakwas tries on the other shoulder, shaking him gently. "Garrus."

Just as he's about to turn away from Shepard he feels himself being ripped away from the table, ripped away from the Med Bay and the _Normandy _itself. Then, he opens his eyes.

"Bad dream?" Jacob is in front of him, arms crossed. "You really didn't want to wake up."

He realizes that Jack is also there, and she takes her hand off of his shoulder, looking at him strangely. "Thought you'd at least punch me the way I had to shake you. "

Relief surges through him. Just a dream. Just a dream. An awful, awful dream. "Shepard?"

Jacob smiles crookedly and uncrosses his arms to point to the Med Bay. "Woke up not too long ago. You're the first person she asked for."

_Alive._ Garrus can barely hold back the delirious grin as he gets up, walking to the Med Bay doors. _And asking for me._


	3. Chapter 3

The Med Bay always makes him nervous. It smells wrong, it's too bright, Chakwas is always too calm. It makes his plates itch just by walking through the door, memories of too much time spent in a Med Bay crawling on his skin, but he continues inside knowing he'll be able to see Shepard. The harsh odor of disinfectant hits him as soon as he crosses the threshold along with the all too familiar beeping of a heart monitor.

All of the things he can't stand about this room fade away when he sees Shepard laying on one of the beds, breathing gently. She's alive. Sure, she's hooked up to several machines and has one of the thickest bandages he's ever seen wrapped around her torso and chest, but she's still here. Garrus looks to Dr. Chakwas' station to find her smiling, her hands resting in her lap.

"We're lucky our Commander is a fighter," she hums. "Only had to restart her heart once."

Garrus swears he can almost feel the blood in his body stop and he remembers his dream in a vivid flash. "What?"

"Relax, Garrus. She made it through."

"Right. Right, sorry."

Chakwas lets out a content but tired laugh and stands, brushing at her uniform as she passes by him. "I'll give you two a moment."

Shepard turns her head at Chakwas' voice and realizes that he's there. Her entire face changes in an instant, that radiant smile calling him over, and a weird fluttering fills his stomach. Even after a life threatening wound and surgery Shepard looks relaxed. He can't help but shake his head as he walks toward her, disbelieving just how lucky this one woman has been over the course of the last few years. The look on her face helps ease over any residual anxiety he's been holding onto, even now without intending to she's helping him. That's his Commander Shepard, helping just by existing.

Garrus can't help but to reach out and touch her shoulder. He needs physical proof and validation that his dream was just that, that she didn't die on the operating table. Her skin is soft even under the touch of his gloved hand and he can feel the warmth of her, the solidness. The feeling in his stomach changes from nervousness to relief. Every rise and fall of her body under his hand, every precious breath, reminds him how much she's come to mean to him. It strikes him just how much he's come to care for her. This kind of interaction, this intimate gesture, two years ago wouldn't have even crossed his mind. Now it feels natural, instinctual even. Their relationship has evolved from Commander and Officer to an entirely different beast. They were always on good terms on the SR-1 but now he knows that she's his best friend and he hers, not his boss, but his equal.

Shepard reaches up to touch the inside of his elbow and catches his eye. "Nobody would give me a mirror." There's still a strained effort and quick breaths behind the words but she smiles. "How bad is it?"

Garrus laughs at his own words coming out of her mouth and takes her hand into his, marveling at the size difference. "Hell Shepard, you were always squishy. Slap some skin grafts on there and no one will even notice."

"Wrong line, Vakarian. It's supposed to be 'Hell Shepard-"

"I know what the line is supposed to be, but I don't think it applies here. You've never exactly been ugly even by human standards."

There's a moment of silence between them then and Shepard's face involuntarily turns a light pink at his words. Garrus chides himself in his head, knowing he should have said something else but it's the first thing he thought of. It's the truth. By anyone's standards Shepard's never been ugly. In the beginning she was strange to look at, she was one of the first humans he had spent so much time with, but over time the red hair and sharp green eyes grew on him. He'd gotten used to her faster than he could have imagined, had even found her pleasant to look at towards the end of their time on the SR-1 together. She's always been such a streak of light, endless optimism, and altruism. Such a change in pace from the red tape and politics of the Citadel and C-SEC.

"Thanks for getting me out of there in time." It's barely a whisper and there's some emotion under the words that Garrus can't quite figure out before she continues on. "Dying there would have really sucked.

He lets her hand go, places it carefully back down. "Agreed. You're too good to die in a place like that."

Shepard's brows scrunch together, curious. "You think?"

"Definitely."

She nods slowly and tries to shift into a more comfortable position, reaching up to contort the small pillow under her head. Calling the thin padding on top of the operating tables a bed is being generous and he doesn't envy her at this moment. He wonders how much pain she's still in and she answers his unspoken question by unexpectedly hissing at her ministrations. Garrus looks her over like some terrified med student, trying to see if she's bled through any of her bandages. Luckily the material remains as white as the snow they saw together back on Noveria.

As she does some breathing exercises to work past the pain he takes a second to give her a quick once-over. Her lower half is covered by a thin Cerberus-issue blanket but his eyes are caught on the myriad of scars crossing over her flat stomach and sides. They're faded now, some white and others just barely reddened, and they disappear underneath the beginning of the bandages. He's always assumed that her resurrection was well… a little less Frankenstein's monster than this. It's not repulsive, not by a long shot, but he can't help but look at the stretches of uncovered skin with a piqued interest. They're on her arms, too. How had he not noticed them earlier? They circle her shoulder socket and follow down her collar bones. She's told him before that she was pulled from the table before they were finished but actually seeing the evidence of their work is astounding. _Tubes and flesh is right_, he thinks.

"Gruesome, aren't they?"

Garrus starts at her voice. "Shepard?"

"The scars." She looks away, self-conscious, and tries to pull the sheet higher. "Miranda says they should eventually be unnoticeable."

"Elizabeth," her first name still feels strange on his tongue, "I don't care about the scars."

"My old ones were better." Shepard turns her head back to face him with a slight upturn of her lips. Eventually she laughs at his expression. "It's true."

"Only you would complain that scars from being brought back from the dead weren't as good as the others."


	4. Chapter 4

The next few days illustrate, with perfect clarity, Shepard's hatred of sitting still. She fidgets, she fusses, she all but writhes trying to do something. Anything. Nothing seems to hold her attention long enough. She's sent out all the probes that the _Normandy_ can hold in just under two days, it takes her an hour to get bored of extranet vids, even shorter to be irritated by the countless gossip articles about her "faked" death. There isn't much she can do while she waits for her body to heal.

Garrus makes it a point to bring some topic of debate or activity along with him when he's able to visit. Most of his free time is spent in the Med bay, as much time as Chakwas allows him to be there, that is. He isn't thankful for Shepard's injury but he's grateful for the time he has to really get to know her. They don't constantly talk about the mission or the Reapers; he learns basic information about her. Her favorite color is purple, she hates a food called licorice, she speaks three Earth languages. What he learns are things friends should know about each other. Even when Chakwas boots him out to let Shepard rest, they still talk. He feels like he's glued to his messages, answering any silly question about himself that Shepard deems "vitally important" to know. Garrus even manages to coax some information about her childhood out to the surface late one night as he rests in his bunk. Shepard sure has grown from the orphan she was years ago. His stomach flutters when he reads her reply:

_'Everyone on the Normandy, even EDI, they're my family. Its part of the reason I fight so hard. People can come after me all they want but if they try to hurt my family, thats when the gloves come off. I used to dwell on not having one a lot more than I should have, even up to the SR-1 days, but now I have one. I've got people like you.'_

He archives the message and simply responds with some joke about how she sure knows how to pick 'em.

The next day she sends him out on another data fetch with Tali and Miranda after one of their probes detects Prothean tech. He's hesitant at best, uncomfortable about a mission without Shepard. When he goes to check on her one last time before getting to the shuttle bay he finds her asleep, Chakwas taking the time to run some blood samples and to scan her implants.

"She'll be _fine, _Garrus," Tali admonishes. "You need time off of the ship and out of this room."

She's probably right, but before they get to the elevator he stops by Life Support much to Tali's irritation. He promises it will only take a second, it'll help him focus once they're on the shuttle. And it does. Thane assures him he'll spend the time Garrus is away with her. Besides Tali and Shepard, Thane has become one of his closest friends. It's another relationship he never would have thought to be possible. Friends with a Drell, a Quarian, and a Human. The universe sure got strange after he signed up with Shepard.

* * *

"How are you feeling?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Shepard rolls her eyes. "Garrus you needed off the ship."

"So you wanted to get rid of me, hmm?" He nods to Thane as he leaves, the gratitude evident in the gesture. "You know, Shepard, you could have kicked me out yourself instead of sending Tali to do your dirty work."

"No! I didn't mean to make you… oh okay, Smart-ass. I could tell I was rubbing off on you."

"How so? I don't recall cursing at anything in my way," he leans away as she tries to swat at him, "or spending hours on one of those word cross puzzles you're so fond of."

"Crossword puzzle," she corrects.

"That's what I said."

Shepard shakes her head, chuckling, but looks away and to the ceiling. "I was making you anxious."

"You really weren't."

"Shush. I know you, Garrus. I can read every one of my crew like a book. I didn't always have someone like Kelly Chambers to help. Sometimes I forget that my own insecurities and irritations can rub off."

He's a bit taken back at her tone. Even mores that she's right. Being grounded had been a welcome distraction, the tension he'd felt in his shoulder shad all but disappeared the minute the shuttle landed. He'd still worried about Shepard but focusing on the data fetch had helped to clear his head. Even just now, he'd felt lighter, light enough to joke with her. He realizes his mouth is slightly open in surprise and blinks slowly. Shepard is astute. It's almost embarrassing how well she has him pegged. He remembers the days on the SR-1 when she hadn't even known a smile from a grimace on his face.

"Commander." Miranda strides into the room with a data pad in her willowy fingers. "Have a minute?"

She nods and puts on her Commander Shepard voice. "Sure, Miranda. What did you find?"

Garrus clears his throat and stands from the seat at the side of the bed. Miranda gives him an odd once over but returns her attention to Shepard. "I'll catch up with you later."

"Sounds good."

As soon as the door closes behind him his omni pings, a message. Reflexively he opens it before noticing its from Shepard.

_Take some time to breathe. I must have thrown you off, huh? I'm sure Miranda will talk my ear off for the rest of the night. When she's done I'll message you. If you're up to it I have an idea._


	5. Chapter 5

"This is the worst idea you've ever had, Shepard."

"Shove it, Garrus. Just keep moving like that and it'll be over soon."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Not when you bend me like that."

"Sorry."

"Humans don't work like that."

"We should stop."

"No! We're so close. Just put your hand lower so we can get this over with. Not that low!"

"Shepard I'm five seconds away from calling for Doctor Chakwas."

"Garrus Vakarian if you even _think_ about it I won't hesitate to rip one of your mandibles off."

"Well that's just uncalled for. Hey! Don't grab there."

"I need some leverage! You're not helping."

Garrus takes a deep breath and focuses on the task at hand. Shepard is right, they're too close to stop now and it's taken them way too long to get this far. He's not willing to admit defeat and call the last half hour a waste of time. Sure, he's uncomfortable, but he won't give up with their goal in sight. Shepard sighs and shifts against him, eyes closed and lips set in a firm line. She's the reason why they're in this predicament in the first place. It was all her suggestion. For being such a brilliant soldier, strategist, and Commander this is proof that even _she_ can come up with idiotic plans.

He's still not sure why he agreed to this half-baked scheme. They've never tried _anything_ like this before. If they get caught they'll never hear the end of it from both Chakwas and everyone else on this damn ship. A cold crest of fear rolls into his chest at the idea of Miranda catching wind of what they're doing. He'd rather face Sovereign head on and alone. The voice of reason in the back of his mind tries to tell him he's exaggerating both the situation and the severity of Miranda's reaction but Shepard whimpers and he's lost to any kind of rationalizing.

"Maybe this wasn't my magnum opus of ideas," Shepard whispers. "How long have we been doing this?"

"Longer than it should have taken, that's for sure."

Her laugh bounces off the walls around them. "I'm probably slowing us down."

An impressive amount of tension eases off of him at her confession. "Oh definitely. You're practically dead weight, you know."

"But here you are, sticking around with me anyway."

"Just like old times."

They both chuckle now resting against one another for a few moments before continuing. A poorly timed move from Shepard finally spurs Garrus into action and he lifts her up, into his arms. She's small here. Small and soft. Her scent drills into him, Cerberus-issue soap and medical grade disinfectant. It's not what he normally associates with her but after all this time spent in the Med Bay it was bound to change. Shepard protests and wiggles against him, unused to being treated like some kind of rag doll. But sure enough she relaxes in his grasp and rests her head directly underneath his chin, sighing. Her hair smells like it always does, admittedly he's fascinated by the compressed keratin proteins that humans seem so obsessed with. The fiery, floral scented strands tickle against his skin but he doesn't ask her to move.

"Do you still want to do this?" He asks her quietly, taking note of her elevated heartbeat stats on his illuminated visor. They've been alone this entire time but he feels the need to lower his voice.

She touches the bandages around her middle as if they're made of glass, as if she's made of glass, and he feels her nod against him. "Yes."

"Alright, then."

In a few steps they've finally made it. Garrus waits for the doors to the Observation deck to open and shifts a tired, still recovering Shepard in his arms. She had been so excited when he'd come to visit her after Miranda had left that he couldn't say no to the proposition of getting her to this room. They'd waited until Chakwas finally, and begrudgingly, retired for the night and by that point Shepard had been exhausted from staying awake. He'd wanted to call it off right then and there but the disappointed look in her eyes when he'd hinted at it made him feel like a fool. It wasn't that large of a request, he'd thought. She wanted to see the stars, complained that she'd gone almost two weeks without them, and he hadn't quite understood why. She saw them constantly, was traveling through them at that very moment, but it didn't seem to be enough for his friend.

All the struggling and agitation of simply trying to walk down the hallway melts away when he sets her gingerly down on one of the benches facing the observation wall. She smiles wanly, not seeming to realize he's staring at her, like she's greeting long-lost friends. Just looking at the far away points of light seems to breathe new life into her. This is a moment where the exterior of Commander Elizabeth Shepard slips away into the shadows and he can seen the woman underneath the title. During the time that he's known her, she's never exposed the soft underside of her personality like this to him. It's something he knows she doesn't give away to just anyone and he feels a comforting swell of pride at the realization. There's a childlike wonder to her, an innocence he rarely sees in anyone, and the pride is replaced by a bloom of affection. She rubs her arms as her green eyes soak in the starlight, and redirects her gaze to his face.

"Thank you, Garrus." She shifts when he sits next to her to allow room for his larger frame but doesn't shy away when his body touches hers. "I appreciate this more than you realize."

When her small hand reaches to take his he smiles. Here, right now, he wants to remember for as long as possible. He's not sure how much time they have left with this suicide mission looming over all of their heads but at least he's had time like this with her. Who would have ever thought they would become this close? He surely hadn' now that he's had her back from the grave Garrus knows moments like this shouldn't be taken for granted. So many things had to line up just perfectly for them to be in this spot.

"You're welcome."


End file.
